


Silhouettes

by spikesgirl58



Category: Man from Uncle - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 06:17:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with paper cut outs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silhouettes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alynwa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/gifts).



“What’s this?”  Napoleon looked at the cardboard cutout and frowned.

“It’s you.”  Illya said, enthusiastically. It was obvious that he was very excited about this new discovery.  Napoleon wished he could find something new and equally exciting to discover. 

“Thanks.  Never would have pegged that silhouette without your help.  I mean what is it?”  He returned it to his desk.

“Selma was doing them for people in the Canteen and I liked yours.”

“Did she do one of you?”   Napoleon was careful to pose the question casually so as not to deflate any of Illya’s joy.

“Yes, but I didn’t think it was as good.”  His tone ratcheted back a notch.

“Why not show it to me and let me decide?”

“It’s…”  In the act of reaching for a manila envelope, Illya glanced at his watch and gasped.  “I’m late for my meeting.”  He stood up and grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the chair.  “It’s in the envelope on top.”  Pulling the coat, he darted for the door.

“Always let them stew for a few minutes, Illya,” Napoleon murmured.  His partner was already gone before Napoleon could get the advice out.

He stood and plucked the envelope from Illya’s ‘in’ basket and took it back to his desk.  Slipping it out, he set it side-by-side with his.  “To the contrary, Partner, I think it’s very good.”  He flipped Illya’s over and tilted it up slightly so that it appeared to be looking at him.  For a moment, Napoleon wondered what it would be like to snatch a kiss from Illya’s slightly opened lips or to hold Illya in his arms in something other than comradely affection.  He was a man in love with his partner and Napoleon had no idea what to do about it. 

At first, Napoleon considered confronting Illya with his feelings, just to see his reaction, but the longer he thought about it, the less the idea appealed to him.  Napoleon relegated himself to studying Illya’s habits.  It was smart for an agent to know all there was to know about his partner.  It could mean the difference between life and death, but for Napoleon it also gave him a reason to keep Illya under the magnifying glass.

He learned Illya’s habits and patterns.  He knew who his partner was with during his off time and, more importantly, who he wasn’t with.  No matter how carefully Napoleon observed, he never saw any inclination that Illya was gay.

Sighing heavily at what could never be, Napoleon glanced back down at the silhouettes and adjusted them just a bit more.  That was when he realized he was later for his own meeting and he sped off.

 

“That’s two hours I will never get back,” Illya muttered as he entered the office.  He looked around, surprised that it was empty.  Then, with a snap of his fingers, he remembered.  It was rare that they were both in the building at the same time and the Powers That Be took advantage of it.  The partners had had two meetings scheduled at the same time, so Illya took one and Napoleon the other.  “Hope yours wasn’t as much a waste of…”

Illya stopped at the sight on Napoleon’s blotter.  Their silhouettes seemed to be gazing longingly at each other and Illya sighed.  It had felt like he’d carried a torch for Napoleon from the moment he’d been introduced to his new partner.  At first Illya had simply been too shy and felt a declaration of love would see him on the next plane back to the Soviet Union.  As their friendship grew, Illya came to the sad realization that Napoleon’s interests lay elsewhere, literally speaking.

But now, this… That Napoleon had arranged them like this could not have been a mistake.  That Napoleon was sending him a message - that might be.

Illya ran a hand thought his hair and pursed his lips.  What to do about it was the puzzlement.  He happened to glance over at the calendar and smiled.  This was perfect.           

                                                                                ****

Napoleon walked wearily down the hotel corridor, ticking off rooms as he passed.   The thickness of the carpet, the tasteful splash of colors on the walls, nothing registered to Napoleon.  The flight had been long and he was weary.

Illya has shipped out two days earlier and secured them quarters as well as doing reconnaissance.  They were in a ‘wait and see’ position until THRUSH played its hand.  With any luck, they would come to the same realization that UNCLE already had as to the lack of success of THRUSH’s latest scheme.  However, with THRUSH, you could never tell.              

All he wanted was a hot shower, a cold drink, and some sack time.  At least Illya had gotten their room squared away.  He’d called his partner from the airport and Illya had provided him with directions to the hotel.  All Napoleon had to do was give his name at the front desk and a key was pushed in his direction.  Relief was close at hand.

Napoleon unlocked the door and stepped inside.  The lighting was low and it took him a minute to fully grasp the sight before him.  Then he stepped back out into the hall and checked the room number again.

The curtains were open, exposing the plant-lined deck and the skyline beyond.  Buildings flecked with lights shone like diamonds against the night sky.   There was a table set for two with a wine bucket to one side.  A bottle of wine was already chilling, a napkin draped protectively around it.

“Illya?”

“Yes?”

Napoleon turned to the voice.  In the dim light, Illya’s features were hidden until he came closer.  For a moment, Napoleon was wondering if he’d been kidnapped and drugged, for this seemed more a dream than reality.

“Uh… hi!”  Napoleon shut his eyes and mentally slapped himself.  “This is… nice.”

“I knew that had we been in New York, you would be out on the town, wining and dining a lady of your choice.  However, here, I’m afraid you are stuck with me.  The wining and dining, however.”   Illya gestured to the table.

“It’s beautiful.”  And it was.  It was nothing that Napoleon had expected.  “Do you think you could pour the wine while I freshen up a bit?  If you’ve gone to all this work, the least I can do is provide you with a less-rumpled me.”

“Go.”  Illya didn’t move, but Napoleon set down his suitcase and headed for the bathroom. 

He stripped and stepped into the shower, sighing as the first blast of hot water hit him.  It was a temptation to stay here and let the water pound his exhaustion away, but his curiosity was piqued.

He pushed back the curtain and stopped.  The mirror had fogged and on the glass were silhouettes of the two of them.  A drop of water dripped down Illya’s profile, almost like a tear and it made Napoleon’s heart hitch a beat.  He carefully climbed from the shower and reached out to stop the tear with a gentle fingertip.

“I am hoping that I did not misread the message that you left me back in New York.”  Illya was standing in the doorway.

“Message?”

“On your desk… with our silhouettes.”

 It took Napoleon a moment to remember, but then he smiled, shaking his head slowly.  “No mistakes.”   

They kissed and Napoleon wondered no more about those lips or how Illya would feel in his arms.  They barely managed to make it to the bed, Napoleon’s hand struggling to rid Illya of his clothes.  Illya’s hands were also busy in delightfully titillating ways. 

Napoleon lowered himself to the mattress, dragging Illya with him, their lips never straying far from each other.   Hands and bodies grappled, joined, and moved together in a dance whose beginnings had no record.

Panting, Napoleon dipped in for another kiss and then happened to look at the wall and at their shadows, entwined together.  “They seem happy now.”

Illya rolled his head to one side to look.  “Then let’s make a pledge then to keep them that way.”

It was a pledge they kept for the rest of their lives.


End file.
